


Makes the beautiful world (in the morning)

by wintercreek



Series: Nightsongs and Lullabies [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Community: cliche_bingo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-10
Updated: 2009-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 10:32:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The barista winks at her, and Meg looks away and feels her cheeks heat slightly. It pleases her a bit for him to think she got lucky last night, even if it didn't happen the way he's probably guessing. She <em>did</em> get lucky, though - an intimate experience, fully clothed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makes the beautiful world (in the morning)

**Author's Note:**

> For [Cliche Bingo](http://community.livejournal.com/cliche_bingo/) 2009, "Food, cooking and mealtimes" square on [my card](http://wintercreek.dreamwidth.org/621187.html).

Meg wakes up with a crick in her neck and stiff shoulders. She's still in Benton's arms, now only half upright on the couch. It should be awkward. It isn't.

She waits to see if he'll notice her stirring. He seems to be asleep still, so she wiggles out from his embrace. Meg's pleased to see he's out cold - maybe she can do something nice for him. She knows every squeaky board in her apartment floor, not that there are many, and she's almost silent as she slips her feet into sandals and tucks her wallet and keys into her pockets. She may pull this off.

Outside, the morning air is cool and luminous in the early dawn. Most of the city is just beginning to rise. The coffee shops are open, of course, and Meg draws in a deep breath of the rich aroma as she opens the door of her favorite shop.

"Good morning! The usual?" the barista greets her.

She smiles and says, "Yes, with a large tea and, hmm, some of these muffins as well."

The barista winks at her, and Meg looks away and feels her cheeks heat slightly. It pleases her a bit for him to think she got lucky last night, even if it didn't happen the way he's probably guessing. She _did_ get lucky, though - an intimate experience, fully clothed.

Meg slips back into her apartment, carefully balancing drinks and muffins in their tray, and finds Benton awake and looking somewhat dismayed. Of course, he must have awoken while she was gone and not known what to make of her absence. "Over here," she calls. "I got breakfast."

His face brightens when he sees her. He starts toward her dining room, but she shakes her head and gestures him to the little cafe table tucked in the corner. It has a lovely view of the city outside; Meg loves to watch the world come to life as the day begins.

Benton looks at her for permission, hands on the window sash. She nods and he smiles, pleased at her understanding, and opens the window. The tea and coffee steam in the cool breeze.

They don't speak as they eat. It's as if they're afraid to shatter the accord between them with words. Benton crumbles his muffin as he pulls it apart. The walnuts fall out and he does not pick them up - Meg wonders if he doesn't care for them. There's so much she doesn't know about this man, somehow, after two years of working together.

She reaches out and picks up a walnut, raising her eyebrows at him. Benton's mouth twitches upward. He nods. Meg pops the walnut into her mouth and eats it, then helps herself to another. She inspects her own muffin, offers him a piece rich with dried cranberries.

Benton considers it before opening his mouth. Meg cannot stop herself from laughing as she lays her offering on his tongue. His eyes crinkle and his lips graze the tips of her fingers when she pulls them back. Both of them smile, private Mona Lisa expressions, until the remains of the muffins have been picked from each other's plates and their cups are empty.

Lines and lines, drawn and crossed. They have passed a threshold in the night, all unawares. Meg sees him to the door, knowing they'll see each other again shortly as the work day opens. "I- Thank you." She's trying for confident; it comes out far softer than she'd wanted. Benton looks pleased. He nods and murmurs, "I'll see you at the Consulate." And to Meg's surprise he presses a kiss to her cheek before turning and moving down the hall.

She closes the door and goes to her window. Even without the distinction of his uniform, even with his hat tucked under his arm rather than marking his head, it's easy to tell which figure is him. He strides out of her field of view. Meg shuts the window, sighs, and turns toward her shower. It's a new day.

Nothing will ever be the same.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Roll Back Down To The Warm Soft Ground (Dog and Butterfly Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/86342) by [helens78](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78)




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